


The Difference a Dog Can Make

by pattimajor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Remus Lupin, Disability, Disabled Character, Disabled Remus Lupin, Gen, High School, Panic Attacks, Service Animals, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pattimajor/pseuds/pattimajor
Summary: Muggle High School AU with autistic Remus. A day in his life with and without a service dog.(Could be read as any character from any fandom if you change the name tbh. It's just a story about a kid who's struggling and then a kid who has help.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	The Difference a Dog Can Make

Remus awoke to the frustrating tones of his alarm. No matter what sound he chose, it never took long for him to be conditioned to hate it.

He reluctantly crawled out of his warm cocoon of blankets, letting out a small sigh as he recognized the shaky weakness in his limbs.

 _Again,_ Remus thought, _and on a Wednesday, too. Of course._

He took a deep breath, carefully masking any signs of his exhaustion. He didn't want his parents to notice.

_No point worrying them when there's nothing they can do to help._

He tried to ignore the constant off-balance sensation as he got ready for school. He felt like he might collapse, but he didn’t. He carefully held in the sheer panic as he watched his Mom drive away. ( _No no no nononono please! Please, Mom, please don't leave me! Don't leave me alone!_ ) Resisted the urge to crawl under his desk and hide. Held himself as still as possible in his chair and desperately tried to comprehend the words the teacher was saying.

At last, about 3 hours in, the disconnect started and Remus could finally breathe.

Not that it mattered much, since the dissociation stole away the tiny bits of comprehension and learning that he'd been managing in exchange for pure survival mechanisms.

He pressed himself against the wall, the familiar scraping of brick against skin keeping him just grounded enough to find his next class and avoid being trampled in the overcrowded hallways.

As the school day finally ended, Remus speed-walked to the back staircase that a sympathetic teacher had shown him last year. Relishing the quiet, (only a few other students used this staircase), he paused for a breath before exiting the building and dashing to the parking lot, eyes squinted tightly against the bright sunlight as he searched for his Mom's car.

Finally reaching it, he collapsed in the passenger seat. His Mom knew better than to ask him how his day was. She'd gotten tired of his 'complaining' long ago. Remus kept quiet, not wanting to make her upset. He felt bad enough about the inconvenience his disorder caused for her. But he'd fight the nonverbal episode he felt coming on if she asked anything. He'd heard 'use your words' often enough to know the 'high-functioning' label on his diagnosis negated any possible recognition of his struggles.

Luckily for Remus, his Mom didn't ask questions today. He grabbed a snack from the kitchen and retreated back to his room as soon as they got home. Dropped the bag of M&Ms on his desk and threw himself into his blankets before all control was lost.

Remus rocked and shook and gasped for breath that never seemed to come for nearly an hour before falling limp amongst his scattered blankets. When he regained weak control over his limbs 20 minutes later, he shakily reached across his bed for the plush dog that always stood guard there, (though nearly 17, Remus still chose to believe the dog protected him from nightmares).

An hour after that, he finally got up, grabbed his M&Ms in the hopes that sugar would give him enough energy to finish his homework, and pulled the dreaded papers out of his backpack.

…

Remus woke up to the irritating tones of his alarm, followed by the sound of Moony stretching in his crate. The dog knew that alarm meant getting up, so Remus had no choice but to get out of bed to take his dog out.

He didn’t mind so much; Moony was well worth that commitment.

After a few minutes outside, Moony followed Remus around the house as he got ready for school, turning to stand behind the boy whenever his back was to the rest of a room. Remus grabbed the dog’s harness and leash along with his coat before they walked out to the car together.

As his Mom drove away, Remus stood in front of the school with Moony by his side. The distinctive red harness labeled ‘Service Dog, Do Not Pet’ kept most of the students around them from trying to interact, and Remus ignored the rest. Moony held his focus on Remus, and that’s what mattered. The dog led him safely through the crowded hallways straight to his first class, then laid quietly under Remus’ seat. No need to scrape his arms against the rough brick walls anymore; not with Moony there to help.

Their day continued that way: Moony guiding Remus through the overstimulating high school hallways and napping peacefully under the desk during class. A few times, Remus would start to shake or breathe heavily, and Moony would get up and lay across Remus’s lap until the boy’s symptoms were back under control.

At the end of the school day, Moony led Remus down the back staircase and found his Mom’s car, allowing Remus to safely close his eyes against the painful light.

In the car, Remus happily told his Mom all about how great Moony had been that day, and how proud he was of his dog. At home, instead of bolting to his room to hide a meltdown, Remus took Moony to the backyard to play a fun game of fetch before starting his homework.


End file.
